


Sappy Quote Prompts!

by TeethHoarder



Series: Tumblr Prompt Lists [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sappy Prompts, i want to tag angst but not really, prompt list
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeethHoarder/pseuds/TeethHoarder
Summary: I was given two prompts on tumblr for FrUK and GerEng and this was the result. enjoy!





	1. "I want you. Only you." - GerEng

The kind of stillness you get in an empty street at 3am is unique, a feeling Arthur often enjoyed on his walk back from the pub. He didn’t always like going out on his own, but sometimes it was needed to just clear his head for a while after the social strain of so many people he already knew. It was good to just kick back and not worry about having to see someone again for a while. But now, he was totally alone as he walked, his path illuminated by the street lights ahead of him. Sometimes a car would drive by to break through the silence before fading off and leaving him once again to this peace. His half drunk state really did help to keep it comfortably numb, like he was floating on a cloud to his destination. 

He didn’t actually own a key to the little retro house he eventually stepped up to, it wasn’t his, and he probably shouldn’t be trusted with immediate entry whenever possible. But it was late, and he really needed to crash head first into some pillows. It wasn’t that he was uninvited, in fact, he was supposed to be staying here anyway, just not blessed with easy access, and at this time of night, knocking was out of the question. 

By some stroke of luck, Arthur wasn’t drunk enough that he couldn’t bend down and retrieve the spare key hidden under a false rock – otherwise this would have been a disaster and he might as well have knocked in the first place. But, as he clumsily slid the key in and stepped inside the dark home, he felt a sigh overcome him. Comfort. With a hint of dog. Speaking of which, the two he had expected didn’t rush towards him like they usually did when he visited, which meant they could only be in one place. 

Quietly, he climbed the stairs, creeping onto the landing and down towards the soft light of the room ahead. It was dim, but as he entered, he noticed a head pop up, ears pointed and eyes fixed on him before deciding he wasn’t a threat, while it’s lazier companion only shifted it’s head slightly.  
“Ladies.” He nodded to each of them, pulling off his shoes.  
“Your back late…” A voice grumbled from somewhere on the bed. 

Behind the larger dog, Ludwig turned over, eyes barely open as he did his best not to disturb the two dogs he had been sleeping beside.  
“Yeah, got a bit carried away in a conversation about something.” The Englishman waved his hand, “There enough room in there for me?”  
“Always.” 

The duvet was moved, revealing a comfortable spot just between Ludwig and the Alsatian currently trying to get back to sleep. Warm and inviting, it was hard not to dive right in. Instead, Arthur chose to carefully climb over the animals, apologising as he went before slotting in nicely, still in his jeans and t-shirt. Despite this, he pressed himself up against the warm muscle of his partner and immediately felt comfortable. 

“How gentlemanly of you to save me a spot.” He sighed, nuzzling his face in the crook of his partner’s shoulder,  
“Why wouldn’t I?”  
“Dunno. Because you have two pretty girls in bed with you?”  
Ludwig chuckled, a soft, low chuckle as he struggled to stay awake for the conversation, nose in the Englishman’s hair, “They missed you too.”  
As if on queue, the yellow dog on the end of the bed shifted, flopping heavily onto the legs of her companions. 

Blondie, a younger golden retriever with a heart of gold and an unhealthy obsession with food. While well trained and wonderfully gentle, she was cunning and cleaver, opening doors and going down bins to get at something to eat or chew. She lay there on her back in the slight crevice between the two men, tail sweeping over the duvet, eyes squinted happily. Arthur reached over awkwardly to pet her cheek, watching her tail go faster and her head move back to guide his hand under her chin. 

The other girl, Brownie, was an Alsatian. Loyal and brave, the older of the two and often more restrained, but faced with a ball she was outright goofy and had no sense of the fact she only had one skeleton. She rolled over, realising there was attention to be had and pushed her face under Arthur’s arm. He laughed lightly, moving to scratch the softest part behind her ear. 

These dogs were Ludwig’s pride and joy, they were on a tight schedule with daily walks and two meals a day, the occasional treat here and there. To befriend them was something the Englishmen felt was an accomplishment, and made him feel all the more closer to the man he would share a bed with whenever possible. He looked back to the German beside him, finding his eyes open, admiring how Arthur pet each of his babies. 

“What?”  
“Nothing…” He smiled, “You’re just… cute.” Before a reply could properly form, Ludwig reached out, brushing his thumb over the flushed cheek of his partner, “Thank you.”  
“For what? Letting you keep them in the bed?” Arthur joked,  
“Yes actually.” He let a light laugh move his chest before shifting forward, using his hand behind Arthur’s head to guide in him into a gentle kiss. The Englishman moved his hand from the dog and let it land comfortably on the one at his cheek, stroking it as they kissed sweetly. 

When it broke away, Ludwig made a noise. Something like a grumble and a huff, and oddly enough quite dog like in itself. He dipped his head down, eyes closed as he pressed a few trailing kisses against his neck as he settled there. His arms pulled his partner closer to him, tightly around the man’s waist as he sighed.  
“I want you… Only you.” He muttered into the skin. 

The words made Arthur blush, but he smiled softly and wrapped his own arms over him, encasing those large shoulders as best he could, “I could hope for nothing more, puppy.”


	2. "Shut up and Kiss me!" - FrUK

It seemed that after meetings went by, there was never much to do other than sit around and wait for the next plane. Francis felt quite lucky, however. In the many times he had visited England, he had never quite gotten bored of it here. Always something to do, something to see with a story he had somehow never heard before. How could such a small island possibly hold such rich history? 

“Thought I’d find you here.” A voice sounded from nearby, one he recognised all too well.  
“Arthur.” He smiled as he turned to face his old friend, his chin in his hand, “You were looking for me?”  
Arthur scoffed as he slid himself into the booth of the cosy little pub the Frenchman had found on one of his midnight strolls, “Don’t flatter yourself. I drink here all the time.”  
“Ah, of course. How silly of me to assume.” He rolled his eyes, though kept his pleasant smile. A little company would be nice in this corner of the world, after all, they had known each other for such a long time. 

Enough time to be able to sit mostly in silence as they drunk, watching the various people as they filed into the pub after a long day at work; regulars chatting with each other, cheering at the TV. Francis enjoyed people watching, although the English weren’t his first choice, there was perhaps one he would let his eyes wander to. 

Arthur was sat with his arms crossed, one foot up on the bench he sat on with his eyes closed and chin against his chest. Were his face more relaxed, one might believe he was sleeping. Despite his brow still creased, he was oddly peaceful. Not very often the Englishman would let his guard down enough to get a nap in.  
“Tired after the meeting?” Francis nudged him slightly, as much as he didn’t want to disturb such a rare moment, surely it would be held against him,  
“Hm?” Arthur blinked to clear away the fog in front of his eyes, “Yeah, ‘suppose…” He sighed, relaxing back against the wall of the booth,  
“Maybe we should head back.”  
“We?” on of those particularly bushy eyebrows raised expectantly,  
“If you want to.” 

There was a pause between them, hanging in an air of familiarity. While holding his wine to his lips, Francis let his hand move over, taking the Englishman’s own under the table. He waited for those fingers to tangle in his, the warm touch of quiet acceptance. Even then, Arthur looked away, awkward as ever. Such a delicate thing, a romantic at heart, but he’d never let it be seen.  
“Come on then.” Francis swung back the remainder of his wine and began to shuffle out of the booth, not letting go of the hand he held, urging the Englishman out with him, who barely managed to finish the pint he had. 

He wouldn’t do something as stressful as hold Arthur’s hand in front of everyone, he merely used it to pull him up, then gestured for him to lead the way. Despite only having a drink or two, it was still amusing to see the Englishman stumble as he took the lead, straightening up trying to hide it the best he could. For someone who drunk as much as he often did, he still had trouble holding it. 

They began walking to the door, Francis one step behind, before their careless leader smacked straight into someone walking in – someone who seemed to be a regular. Big and burly, the man looked down to who bashed into him with aggression already building. Knowing his dear old friend, Francis was quick to grab Arthur’s arm and pull him away towards the door, apologising for the clumsiness. But of course, he was a little too late. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Arthur snapped, much to the dismay of his friend,  
“Me? You’re the one who hit me, mate.”  
“Leave it.” Francis warned, tugging on the Englishman’s arm again, but he was shaken off as Arthur stepped up threateningly,  
“Do what your boyfriend says, yeah?” The man turned, heading towards the bar. 

As he was pulled out, Arthur continued to shout, both him and the man continued their arguing while Francis called the nearest cab over, having to shove his friend inside. So much for a peaceful evening. Drinking with the Englishman seemed to only go well when they sat together alone. But now, they sat in the back of a cab, a tense vibe in the air as Arthur sat with his arms crossed like a sulking child. He hadn’t changed in all these years. As small and aggressive as ever. 

They got to his home after an increasingly vile cab ride, the driver very eager to be rid of them. At the gates of the home, without the social pressure of having to hold himself back in front of a driver, Francis grabbed the Englishman’s shoulder and spun him around. “What on earth makes you think that was smart?”  
“What?”  
“Acting like that back at the bar! You can’t act like an adult for five minutes. There was no need for it.”  
“Whatever.” Arthur huffed,  
“No, not whatever!”  
“What do you want me to say? I can’t exactly go back and apologise, can I?”  
“You could start acting mature and admit you made a mistake!”  
“Get off my back!”  
“There you go,” Francis scoffed, turning his back, “You’re too stubborn! This is why you can’t have nice things.” 

He continued to scold, all the while feeling the building ball of anger behind him. Safe to say his night was quite ruined, what could have been a romantic evening with someone he felt he could love, had turned to one full of frustration he couldn’t ignore, and frankly he refused to enter that house if it remained. Might as well get it all out now.  
Behind him, the tension in Arthur grew, occasionally snapping back with one word responses. 

“Maybe if you drank less and thought more, you wouldn’t get so angry over the smallest things.”  
“Shut up.” He spoke through gritted teeth,  
“I won’t! Listen to me for once and put away that stubborn pent up attitude! All you do is-“  
“Shut up and kiss me!”  
Francis Blinked, stopped midsentence in confusion, “I’m sorry, what?”  
“You heard me, bastard.” Arthur’s hand shoved at his shoulder, turning him and grabbing his shirt to shove him into the nearest wall. All at once, he pushed their mouths together.

As aggressive as it was, soon the kiss calmed, the pair melting into each other. When they broke away, Arthur dipped his head down, leaning on the Frenchman’s shoulder, his hand loosening on his shirt.  
“I know it was stupid. Just shut up and stop being so angry at me…”  
“Oh… you idiot.” Francis smiled, a gentle feeling overtaking him as he wrapped his arms around him, “We should go inside and talk, hm? I’ll make you tea.”  
“Please…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have a piece of dialog I couldn't fit in 
> 
> Arthur: “Where are the toilets in this place?”  
> Francis: “I thought you said you drink here all the time?”  
> Arthur: “Doesn’t mean I piss here all the time.”


End file.
